


this too shall pass

by breadrave



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 15:06:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10993404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breadrave/pseuds/breadrave
Summary: Sometimes it still came down to this. Sometimes it felt like there was nothing in the world besides Wylan and the incomprehensible swirl of letters in front of him. There were nights that he still cried over books, nights that he sat on the floor, trembling and trying to be better. Tonight was one of those nights.





	this too shall pass

**Author's Note:**

> hope you guys like this! it's been a while since i've written anything and it makes me super excited to be getting back into it

Sometimes it still came down to this. Sometimes it felt like there was nothing in the world besides Wylan and the incomprehensible swirl of letters in front of him. There were nights that he still cried over books, nights that he sat on the floor, trembling and trying to be better. Tonight was one of those nights. 

Wylan sat on the floor in his room, pouring over a book, the plush carpet underneath him doing nothing to stop his legs from growing stiff and aching from disuse. Wylan didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there, staring at the page in the book, trying to remember what his old tutors had told him about letters and sounds. The memories of his tutors only brought more unpleasant ones with them, like what his dad would say when another day had passed with no concrete improvement in Wylan’s ability to read. This mix of memories and desperation was making Wylan panic harder - it felt like the whole world was too loud. The pounding of his heart in his ears sounded like his father yelling, it sounded like things being thrown, it sounded like a slap to the face.

_You’ll never be good enough. How do you expect me to love you like this? You’re not trying hard enough, Wylan. You don’t care enough. You’re a disgrace. A Failure. You shouldn’t have been born. ___

____

The phrases seemed to be on a loop in his brain, and Wylan couldn’t remember what his father actually said or what he was just imagining. The air around him felt heavy and hot, too hot. He felt like he was suffocating. All he could hear were his own thoughts. All he could see were rows of letters, meaningless to him, blurred with tears.

____

Wyllan had been feeling better. His old house had felt gigantic and ridiculously lavish after living on the Barrel, and he sometimes still felt his pulse skyrocket at loud noises, convinced that his father would hurtle around the corner, harsh words on his lips and fury in his blood, but overall he was doing better. He had felt himself growing comfortable in the slow and steady pace of his new life, and Jesper reading to him had been working out better than he could have hoped. Wylan’s life was settling down. He should feel fine. He should feel incredible. 

____

But some nights it was just too hard to deal with the remnants of his father’s abuse. Wylan had spent too many nights curled up on the floor as his father yelled over him, too many nights hiding in various corners in an effort to push off the inevitable punishment, too many nights hating himself and wishing he were a different person; Wylan had internalized too much for it to all disappear in a matter of weeks, but he was still upset. He had no reason to be beating himself up now. Now that he had his mother and Jesper, now that he was safe, with Jan Van Eck locked away and disgraced. He knew his panic and shame at being illiterate was irrational now that he was surrounded by people who loved him, but that sentiment was ringing hollow and untrue amongst the shaking and the panic and the flashbacks. Wylan’s breathing was too fast, he distantly thought. His heartbeat was erratic, and he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs. Was he dying?

____

Wylan threw the book across the room in a surge of frustration, and it hit the wall with a thump and fell to the floor like a slain monster. Wylan pulled his legs to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, trying to block out the swirl of words in his head, the yelling and the insults, the flashes of memory that clouded his vision and took him away from the safety of the guest room he had claimed as his own. He felt like a child throwing a fit, the image of how immature he must look only making his breathing more erratic and his panic and frustration rise.

____

Wylan dimly registered the sound of someone knocking on the door, but he made no move to respond to the sound, focusing instead on trying to slow his rapid, shallow breathing. _Just calm down. This is stupid. You’re being stupid. Just. Calm. Down._

____

It wasn’t working.

____

Wylan faintly heard the door open, and he could feel the thumps of Jesper’s footsteps through the floor as he approached Wylan, sitting down near him gently.

____

“Is it ok if I hold you? Would that make you feel better? I know sometimes it just makes people feel worse and I don’t want to make you feel worse so I just want to make sure,” Jesper rambled, his concern making him feel out of his depth and unsure. His usual restless energy just made him want to reach out to Wylan more, a mantra of _help him, help him, help him_ occupying his mind. 

____

Wylan nodded without registering what he was doing. He was desperately in need of anything to ground him, and Jesper’s strong arms and fresh scent would certainly help.

____

Jesper shifted to sit behind Wylan, his chest to Wylan’s back, began to breath deeply. He knew that Wylan had trouble breathing when he got panicked like this, and he figured that trying to help with that was as good a place to start as any.

____

Through the haze of memories _(you’re not good enough to be my son Wylan if you could read I would love you nobody will love someone as pathetic and stupid as you)_ , Wylan could feel Jesper’s chest moving in the slow in and out rhythm of calming breaths, and he latched onto it to focus on. He brought his mind to the feeling of Jesper’s arms around him, the smooth skin and lean muscles, the warmth his body provided. The shift in focus allowed him to clear his mind and stop spiraling his panic by unsuccessfully trying to calm himself down. 

____

Eventually, the panic and fear that had been coursing through him slowly melted from his body, taking the painful memories and insults with them. He could focus on his surroundings again, and Wylan leaned back into Jesper, feeling exhausted.

____

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking at the floor.

____

“Hey,” Jesper muttered, his mouth close to Wylan’s ear, arms wrapped protectively around him, “this isn’t you fault.”

____

“I just,” Wylan paused for a moment, letting his eyes trace the intricate wallpaper across the room from him, “I know I should be over it by now. I-I have you and I was feeling better but...”

____

Jesper shifted his hold enough to allow him to look at Wylan’s face, even though Wylan still had his eyes fixed on the wall in front of him. “Hey. Wylan. You shouldn’t feel bad for this. This type of thing, I don’t know, it takes time to work through. You can’t just wake up one day and forget about all the bad stuff. It’s a process, I think. I know that it’s hard but, I’m here for you.”

____

Wylan turned his head and met Jesper’s gaze, his gray eyes looking completely serious, earnest in his assertions. A rush of emotions bubbled up within Wylan, and suddenly he felt unending and limitless gratitude and appreciation for Jesper Fahey. He stared at Jesper for a while, before leaning in and kissing his cheek. “What would I do without you?”

____

“Probably lounge around all day, playing the flute,” Jesper responded, the teasing light in his eyes back.

____

Wylan shifted away from Jesper and stood up. He held out his hand for Jesper to take, which he did, then he led them both to the bed on the other side of the room. Wylan sat on the edge of the mattress, their hands still joined, while Jesper stood over Wylan, looking at the younger boy with something that Wylan couldn’t quite place. Something deep and pure. 

____

Neither of them were outright smiling. The night had been colored by seriousness, and it would have felt improper and intrusive to break that, but that did not mean that they were sad. 

____

Wylan interrupted the moment with a yawn. 

____

“Shall we go to bed then?” Jesper asked, squeezing Wylan’s hand and kicking off his shoes. Jesper always wore shoes inside the house no matter how many times Wylan reminded him that he didn’t need to.

____

“Yeah,” Wylan replied, softly. He kept his eyes on Jesper as he shifted and lay down in the bed. They lay facing each other, both staring at the other for several long moments. 

____

“Thank you,” Wylan whispered, not wanting to crack the fragile tranquility that had settled over them.

____

Jesper just smiled back at him. Even though Wylan was exhausted from the intense emotions he had just experienced, he still fought to keep his eyes open for as long as possible, thinking about how lucky he was to have Jesper as he stared at the boy’s face and felt their arms and legs tangled together. 

____

This was where Wylan felt safe. And as he eventually let his eyes slip closed, he could still hear Jesper’s breathing, deep and slow. It sounded like waves rushing to meet the beach, it sounded like coming home after a long time away, it sounded like gentle kisses, exchanged in the bright morning sun. 

____

It sounded like love.

____

**Author's Note:**

> comments/kudos are always appreciated!! you can also come say hi to me on tumblr - thecrowcrew.tumblr.com


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